


Whatever a Sun Will Always Sing is You

by LUCKYWARRIORS (voidpacifist)



Series: Awtto Shorts [1]
Category: Waterparks (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Deaf Character, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, the times awsten hid his feelings and then the one time he doesn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23194831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidpacifist/pseuds/LUCKYWARRIORS
Summary: On his sixteenth birthday, Awsten Knight receives the markings of his future soulmate. Except there are no words, none that he can see. He remains optimistic for the lettering that supposedly every child gets as much as he can, but by the time he's twenty, he's given up.And then, looking for someone to replace the drummer of this thrown-together-garbage-local-punk band, he meets Otto Wood.
Relationships: Awsten Knight/Otto Wood
Series: Awtto Shorts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785724
Comments: 15
Kudos: 44





	Whatever a Sun Will Always Sing is You

**Author's Note:**

> no archive warnings, but there's mentions of ableism and a panic attack described in detail. but for the most part it's just really cute. enjoy!

"i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)."

- _[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]_ by E.E. Cummings

* * *

The morning of his sixteenth birthday, he's nearly sick with excitement. It's three minutes to midnight, twelve a.m. on the seventeenth of January in Houston, Texas, and Awsten Knight, weedy-limbed and clad in his favorite t-shirt, can't keep still as he waits for the words to appear on his wrist, for his arm to feel a warm tickle, for his chest to feel light. The scientists said these were the symptoms of receiving the Phrase - the very first words his future wife will say to him.

Well, he _thinks_ it'll be a girl. Maybe it'll be a boy, although he isn't sure how his parents will react if it is. Maybe it'll be a _they._ Maybe it won't be anyone, but that would suck _ass_ in his opinion.

He's seated at the dining room table beside his mom and dad. Gracie's already in bed, where she's been for the last two hours, since she's only twelve and definitely _definitely_ doesn't understand yet the kind of excitement that comes with getting a Phrase. She's not there yet. _When_ she _turns fifteen,_ he thinks, _she'll be over the moon._

He certainly is.

The grandfather clock in the living room strikes, and it's the seventeenth now. Awsten yanks his wrist toward his face as if bringing it closer will make it more real. But it's painfully real that no words have appeared. There's no lightness or even a tickle. He frowns. "Hey uh...didn't the doctor say it would be _exactly_ midnight?" he asks his mom, apprehensive. Ginny gives him an encouraging smile. "Maybe you're just a little late, sweetheart. Give it a moment," she reassures him, setting a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tries not to make it obvious how much he stiffens under her touch.

Roscoe, on his other side, keeps staring at his wrist. There's a concerned frown on his face, but he wipes it away immediately when Awsten looks to him for encouragement and Ginny, from behind, mouths, _do something!_ Awsten's dad replaces it with a look that can only be described as that of a pragmatist. "It might be a little late. How 'bout ya head ta bed, chief? Give it a few hours, yeah?" Awsten sighs at the words, but nods, swallowing the lump in his throat and rushing to his bedroom before the tears can come.

The never emerge, but he can feel them stinging his eyes when he finally tucks himself in. _Don't cry, you shit. It's okay. Maybe it doesn't work the same for everyone. Go to bed._ He still lies awake, checking and rechecking his wrist just to be sure it isn't a dream.

When he finally wakes up seemingly moments later, he goes to check again. There's a lightness, but still no words. He tries rubbing his eyes, his wrist, even hitting it as if that will activate the Phrase. Nothing. Grumbling, and now very frustrated, he bolts out of his room, dizzy from his half-asleep state, to his mother, who's making bacon in the kitchen. His dad is reading his Bible. _How appropriate,_ he thinks. _I bet my dad wonders if God can fix me._ In his head, he's bitter. In his heart, he's hopeful. If there's a God, surely he'll have a soulmate.

Maybe his soulmate just doesn't talk, right?

Maybe.

_Maybe._

He lets his maybe-ing continue for several months, and though the optimism remains, the realist in him knows that if the words haven't appeared by now, at nineteen, that they never will. That doesn't ever stop him from wishing they would appear, however.

He thinks he's finally found _the one_ when he's at a party. It's his first semester of college, and he figures he might as well satisfy his desire to experience his freshman year to it's fullest - that means going to stupid frats, even if he isn't planning on getting stoned or drunk. While dancing amongst other buzzed teens and kids in their early twenties, a hand grasps his, and he meets a girl.

He doesn't remember much after that except slow dancing. They didn't say a word to each other, or she was just shy. To this day, he doesn't know why he didn't check her wrist to see if maybe his words were on her wrist, doesn't know why he never checked to see if _she_ was the one. They remained friends throughout the rest of the week, before inevitably her schedule became too busy to hang out with him. Even though they were never destined to be together, he still wishes they hadn't drifted. It was nice not being alone at college for the short time that he wasn't alone.

At twenty, he drops out. Then a tumor is found under his knee. Then his desire to make music for the rest of his life eats away at him, and all the stupid, corny love songs he wrote for someone he _still_ doesn't know creeps into his brain and he. Just. Stops. The words haven't appeared and it's not a fluke. He has no one.

No one.

The group of guys he got together for _Waterparks_ is compromised, though. Their drummer ends up all the way in Amsterdam without warning, and now Awsten only has one person. Geoff is nice, easy to get along with, the biggest sweetheart on the fucking _planet._ Jawn can fill in for a little bit, but they can't do it on their own. Jawn has other plans, ones that don't necessarily include hiding behind a percussion set for the rest of his life. And so, Jawn declines the offer to stay as their permanent drummer.

They have _Airplane Conversations_ recorded, but unless they have someone to _continue_ playing with them, there's no way the band, something Awsten feels is _the thing_ his life has amounted to that is actually worth it, will ever take off. So Awsten resorts to scrounging around desperately at other artist's gigs for someone who _can_ drum and _will_ do it. The people in the crowd are usually friendly, but none of them are interested. There isn't a single person Awsten has found who can even hold the drumsticks properly.

So for a chunk of the time spent looking, he holds auditions. He puts out ads on the streetlight posts in his neighborhood, even ventures into downtown to try fishing for someone, _anyone._ Exactly three people show up, all of them having little to no experience or being unwilling to learn new material. Awsten and Geoff stop auditions.

It isn't until late September of 2012, on a colder evening outside of a loud and crowded bar, when Awsten's trying to entice anyone he possibly can to take a flyer, that _he_ shows up. Awsten doesn't take him for much at first. He's a little shorter than Awsten, with dark, poodle-ear hair hidden in a beanie. He's wearing a _lot_ of denim, almost as much as Geoff does. Awsten must look really _really_ hopeless, because the guy comes over unprompted. 

As soon as their eyes lock - blue and green on brown - Awsten feels an itch on his left wrist. He shrugs it off as his sweater, but even after the guy picks up a flyer, unspeaking, reading it whilst walking in the other direction, his wrist still bugs him. When he arrives home that night, he checks it just for the hell of it. Predictably, there's nothing. _Just a fluke,_ he thinks as he falls asleep.

He wakes up to his phone filled with texts from Geoff. **Hello? u awake? this guy showed up @ my house this morning and apparently he can play all of airplane convos front to back.** Awsten shoots out of bed like a bullet, throwing on some shoes and slathering on some deodorant hastily before running out the door in nothing but his sweats. He drives in his oldass car to Geoff's place, barging in without so much as knocking. He's elated and a little bit anxious - they finally found someone who's interested _and_ has the skill for it, but who-

Oh, of course. Him. Beanie Guy. The guy who took a flyer and turned on his heel. There's no actual beanie today, just long, dark locks of curly brown hair. Awsten watches in fascination as the guy plays the rhythms perfectly, transitions the tempos without a flaw. But something seems very off about all of this, and Awsten can't put a finger on it.

He's sitting on the speaker. Not a drumseat. The _speaker itself_. And it's up so loud that Awsten's tempted to plug his ears when he walks in. Geoff's grinning like a madman from where he stands, mere _feet_ in front of Beanie Guy, looking at Awsten like he hung the moon itself. Awsten feels a grin tug at his cheeks, but doesn't let it crack open yet. He's still worried that he'll be let down, in fact, he expects it. How did he get lucky this time? Of all times?

The guy finishes his drum session, but instead of clapping, Geoff raises his hands and shakes them back and forth. _Like the single ladies dance, but both-handed,_ Awsten thinks. The guy raises his brown doe eyes to Geoff's hands and looks at his lap, blushing. _Thank you,_ he mouths, moving his right hand flat from his chin to out in front of him, palm up. Well, Awsten _guesses_ the intention is mouthing, but it comes out in quiet gasps, or like a guy with a sore throat. The words aren't even enunciated right. Awsten's about to open his mouth, but Geoff stops him, handing him a pad of paper. **Write here,** it reads at the top. Awsten looks between Beanie Guy and Geoff, confused, because he genuinely isn't rested and genuinely has _no fucking clue_ what's going on.

"Oh!" Geoff chirps suddenly, patting Beanie Guys shoulder and gesturing crudely to Awsten, who's still holding the paper pad in his hands with no idea what it's purpose is or what to do with it. "Awsten, this is Otto. Otto, Awsten." The second part he says facing Beanie Guy. It's also more articulate. The consonants are so sharp Awsten swears he can cut himself on the edges of Geoff's words.

"Geoff, what--" _What's going on?_ he wants to ask. But the words stick to the roof of his mouth, because now all the pieces are clicking together. Otto was sitting on the speaker. He didn't look at Awsten when he took the flyer. He didn't acknowledge him coming in. He watched Geoff's hands and lips. And now he's watching Awsten's - gauging him. But it's clear that Otto isn't an asshole or a pervert for any of these things.

It makes sense now. He's deaf. _Now_ Awsten's more awake than he was thirty minutes ago.

And Otto's still waiting patiently for him to write something, a quaint smile gracing his features. Awsten fumbles with the pen as it's thrusted into his hand. He quickly scribbles something - **hey, that was really good! how interested are you in learning more?** \- before handing it back to Otto, he truly only mouths the words to himself this time. His eyes catch a certain spark, and suddenly it's like he's illuminated.

Awsten's soulmate's first words aren't audible. They're in Sign. Otto's hands start flying excited, but he forces himself to stop, rubbing a fist in a circle over his chest. Awsten recognizes it - _sorry._ It's the only one he can remember from elementary school, and he doesn't even know why he remembers it. He just does. _God damn, I really have someone. I_ really have someone.

He tries not to show how visibly shaken he is from the realization as Otto writes something down, finishing and handing it back to him. He reads it once, twice. He reads it a third time just to make sure his eyes aren't playing tricks on him. **I'd love to! maybe us three can meet later today over chipotle about it?**

Awsten nods enthusiastically, fist-pumping but only in his head. Otto's smile grows impossibly wider, displaying his very white, very perfect teeth. A little airy chuckle escapes him, and Geoff grins ear to ear. "Awesome! I'll-" he looks to Otto, "-text? email?" Geoff imitates typing, and Otto must be good at this mock-sign/lip-reading business because he nods and scribbles something down on the notepad. Geoff writes his phone number and email beneath it, before handing it to Awsten to do the same.

He and Otto leave at separate times. Awsten ends up at home only fifteen minutes later, and he has to brush off Gracie asking him _over and over_ why the hell he's so jittery and bouncy. He tells her it's his coffee, and she raises an eyebrow at her very clearly decaffeinated older brother. Who is currently shirtless. And blushing from one cheekbone to the other. "You _never_ get red like that. Not even when Grace asked you out cause she felt bad in eleventh grade. Who is it?"

Awsten shakes his head and plods to his room. "No one- someone. Just someone I met."

* * *

They meet at Chipotle later that day, as promised. Awsten is a little more self-conscious this time, his big sweater draped over his hands so that Geoff and Otto don't see him fidgeting. But he quickly learns that this is a futile feat - under the table, Otto grips his hand and rubs two circles over the back of it. He doesn't do anything other than that, letting go of his hand so discreetly that not even Geoff sees. But it makes Awsten realize that Otto catches everything, _everything._ Even his little nervous ticks that he doesn't want to have but does have anyway.

The conversation is productive, however slow it may be. Geoff and Awsten realize in due time that Otto can't read their lips while they're chewing, and he can't write or sign while he's chokeholding his extra large burrito. Awsten learns a lot about Otto in the two hours that they're feasting on Mexican food - that he's already acquainted with Jawn, that he's been deaf since he was five, that he can eat literally _anything_ in _any quantity,_ and that he lives on a farm. With poor reception. Instead of emailing, they all decide texting will be best, and the group chat is born.

Awsten adds Otto's contact under the hand emoji. He then adds Otto to the mass message with Geoff. _Waterparks_ now has a group chat.

They all stay up into the night texting each other about anything and everything, but nothing serious. Those conversations are saved for in person, and even then Awsten isn't the most open-up-about-all-my-shit kind of person. Even with the people he's closest to, such as Jawn or his parents. He lets his emotions run wild in song. The time and effort into thinking about conveying exactly what he wants to say the _right way_ is apparent. He's even complimented by Otto, who asked for the lyrics to the _Airplane Conversations_ songs based only on Geoff's recommendation. Awsten is reluctant, even though he's almost certain there's not a thing he wouldn't do for the drummer.

Except tell him about who his soulmate really is. Because he's scared that Otto doesn't think he's the one. So he bottles it up and lets it come seeping out in the tiniest bits in his songwriting. Geoff can tell, but that's only because he's seen both Otto's and Awsten's left wrists. He's watched them click. He knows. And now, he watches from afar as the fuckers skirt around each other for _years._

It's actually quite entertaining.

And it's obvious. So painfully obvious that Awsten's in love that Geoff doesn't know how Otto, the observant little shit, doesn't see it. As soon as Awsten got home from Chipotle, he'd called Geoff in a frenzy about how Otto is his soulmate. _"I thought I didn't have anyone for so long and now it's him. It's_ him, _Gee."_ He stayed on call even when Awsten wasn't talking, because Awsten was teaching himself Sign to talk more effectively with Otto. He knew he'd need it too, so Geoff began learning as well. But he still didn't pick up the skill as fast as Awsten did.

Awsten's knuckles ache from communicating with his hands. His fingers bleed from pouring his heart into communication with song. His throat stings from laughing, crying, singing so hard he forgets to breathe. But everything that hurts has a worth about it, and it screams _Otto Otto Otto._

How does Otto not know?

* * *

_Airplane Conversations_ and _Black Light,_ the newest album, are still their only achievements so far. Awsten works tirelessly not only to advance in his Sign abilities, but also to promote for shows in Houston and the surrounding areas. And then they do something different - they sign up for a panel in Florida, an advice panel of sorts. They're all eager to go, even though the drive is long and tiring and they have to piss in pop bottles. 

But when they get there, it's underwhelming. Geoff chauffeurs all that way for a few half-assed responses from the supposed 'experts.' Awsten seeks out one of the panel members only to be told his life's work won't amount to anything, but that isn't what hits the hardest. Even though it's an insult not only to _his_ dream but also to Geoff and Otto's efforts, Awsten learns that some people have a massive, ableist stick so far up their asses that it's coming out of their mouth and skewing their view of human decency.

He doesn't remember the panelist's name, only that he's supposedly one of the best advice givers at this event for small bands. He only remembers that the panelist asks Otto the reason he's in a band when he can't hear. Ad verbatim, "Mr. Wood-" - not even enunciating himself or even looking Otto in the _face_ , goddammit - "-how do you expect to be a functioning member of the group if you aren't able to hear any of the songs? Isn't that, like, the entire point?" 

Awsten's seeing red. But the white, blinding rage doesn't set in until later, when Otto bravely swallows and then asks aloud, "Care to repeat that?" The words are messy and Awsten himself can hardly understand what Otto's saying. That might have also been because of the roaring blood in his ears from how hard he's trying not to start yelling in a semi-professional setting. The r's aren't formulated correctly, his consonants are so soft they're hardly there, his diction is atrocious. But he still says it and it clearly gets the message across, because it shies the panelist into silence.

And no more questions and answers for that day.

It's the first time he's heard Otto speak. He's heard him laugh, heard him grumble, even heard him _sigh._ He isn't sure Otto's aware of the little noises he makes. His grunts of affirmation, his whines when he's stressed, his exhales that sound more like _hah_ s when it's been a long or bad day. Otto's voice is better at conveyance of emotion than anything Awsten's ever written. It's purer and more beautiful than Geoff's best guitar solos, and as far as solos go, Geoff's are really good. 

He wishes the first time wasn't this way - not only because the panelist wasn't clear enough, but because Otto can read him like a book. He doesn't ask out of concern and Otto knows this very _very_ well.

But he tells Awsten and Geoff nothing of it on the drive. And Awsten fears it's because he's accustomed to it.

* * *

He wears hearing aids sometimes. Awsten's only ever seen them in once. They're bright - purple, sparkly molds than fill his whole ear cavity and a blue shell that wraps around the back. He only has them in if he's running over a demo with Awsten - these are the moments Awsten lives for because it's just the two of them in his blue room with his keyboard and computer being their only audience.

He thinks Otto forgets when he has them in, because one time he walked into Awsten's room with his hair tied back. Awsten commented on how he looked nice - _pretty_ was the exact word, but Awsten tries to forget that - which caused Otto to turn beet red and undo his hair. Awsten complained endlessly, teasing his soulmate about how he looked better with it up. He kept up his erratic critiques even though - he'd never tell - he thought Otto looked good either way.

It's on a bad day when Awsten learns why he wears them to demo-ing. Otto is deaf, profoundly so, and he's told Geoff and Awsten before that not even the aids can give him back enough sound to pick up on definite noises. So when Otto storms in, tense, frustrated because he _doesn't_ have a working pair of hearing aids that day, Awsten is confused. _**Why do you need them?**_ he signs, but he regrets his curious fingers as soon as Otto's expression falls.

_**They make me...feel more secure about what I'm doing.** _

_**What do you mean?** _

_**I mean that-**_ he cuts himself off, sighing and looking up at the ceiling. Awsten almost wonders if he's trying not to cry, but it's quite the opposite. He's trying not to laugh. _**It's honestly kind of ridiculous. Nothing they do will change that I can't hear. I never**_ **will _hear. But there's something about it that makes me feel more connected to hearing. And hearing is still kind of essential for demos._**

**_Yes, but do you write the demos?_ **

**_...No._ **

**_Then why worry? If the beat's off, it's on me. You pick up on it so fast with touch alone. We have the means to give you the rhythm._ **

Otto gives this some thought, his eyebrows furrowing and his doe eyes scrunching at the corners. Awsten thinks he looks really _really_ pretty like this, but now isn't the time to be thinking that, so he gives Otto his full attention as he continues. ** _There's something about them that makes me feel normal. Like I'm not separate from the drums, even though I'm not separate when I'm without them. Just knowing that they're_ supposed _to help and knowing that the learning is the most crucial part...it's a comfort thing._**

He wants to say that he's overreacting, but then he thinks about a world without any sound. _Any_ sound. Awsten can live without noise, but he sure as hell can't live without music. Otto's lived without music for seventeen and a half years. And yet he still loves to drum. Awsten can see where that would seem complicated to some, and why Otto feels like he needs his aids even if they don't do anything for him. He nods, a thought occurring to him.

_**Let's demo another time. It doesn't have to be today. We can play Mario and eat shitty food but if you really want to wait until you have them back to learn the drumline, it's okay. I'm patient.** _

Otto's expression becomes quizzical. _**Are you sure? You've been wanting me to go over this early--**_

 _ **I know what I said,**_ Awsten cuts him off, _**but you already do so well learning this stuff and this is only for early release. We don't have to worry about it today.**_

Otto, for the first time since arriving, smiles. _**Thank you.**_

* * *

Awsten's hair is pink when they finally _finally_ find a label that will take them. Awsten's been very specific about who he wants to hear their music that could potentially monitor them and help them produce, and one day, he thinks he's found them. After emailing both the _Black Light_ EP and the _Airplane Conversations_ EP to Equal Vision Records, they take _Waterparks_ almost instantly. They're even willing to pay for airfare so that Awsten, Geoff, _and_ Otto can all fly to Los Angeles and sign the contract with them.

He remembers them being really nice over the phone, even though he was nervous as hell for the phone call. He also remembers Otto reassuring him that _if they want to sign us, we should go for it._ He remembers going through the Houston airport and Otto wandering off to find an interpreter for security so he could figure out what to do with his hearing aids. Awsten's heart had left so far from his chest when he realized Otto had wandered off that he thought it would burst. He remembers when they finally found him, how he'd punched Otto in the arm for scaring him like that. 

Otto, to this day, claims it was Awsten's fault for not understanding that he has literally no internet at home to look up how to do this kind of shit. Awsten still feels like a dumbass when he tells the story in rapid Sign, and he can _always_ tell when Otto's about to bring it up in an interview, on the rare occasion that he pipes in. He gets the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, and Awsten gets the feeling in his stomach that something embarrassing about him is about to be brought up.

The shit-eating grin is usually the giveaway.

He remembers when they arrive at the restaurant and meet the Maddens. _The fucking Maddens_ and Awsten and Geoff are so excited they can hardly contain themselves. Otto doesn't join in on the excitement until he learns that they'd been teaching themselves as much Sign as they could. Though it was very limited when they met, they'd picked up on basic conversational vocabulary, enough to introduce themselves and talk a bit about drums and other hobbies with Otto. By the end of dinner, they felt like friends to him.

That was what made Awsten decide this was a good idea.

He remembers a lot about being with Equal Vision, and truth be told, none of it's good. They were constantly under a deadline - whether it be a time crunch for producing the next record, or pressure for getting on the road to _tour_ faster. Yes, they were doing _that_ now. Otto had to learn the drumlines faster than before, and sometimes Awsten couldn't help him with the demos. He sent them to Otto's dinosaur of a Mac and tried to, _tried so hard,_ to organize plans to meet up and go over the parts. But being under a label like Equal Vision, there was a lot to do with a lot of stress and not enough time.

They were worked bone dry, and Awsten is so fucking glad when they find a better label. When they're _successful enough_ to move on somewhere more inviting, to something independent.

Still, he wouldn't trade a day of touring under their - now ex - label for the world, and it's because Otto is with him, and he can _feel_ the reciprocity from his friend. His actual soulmate. He can _feel_ things moving from platonic to something else, and it isn't romantic so he doesn't call it anything.

These are the times that stick out in his mind.

* * *

Their first tour, their very first show out of state, Otto is nervous as hell, and he can tell. This isn't like demos or practice at home; he won't be sitting on the actual speaker or wearing bulky headphones so that he can feel the vibrations in his head or body. He has to rely on subtle cues from Awsten and Geoff, and the integrity of vibrations in the floor.

So he goes in with only socks on his feet. And for the most part, it helps. He gets the hang of it, and Awsten beams back it him occasionally from the front of the stage. He knew from the beginning of planning the shows that Otto would be able to, but he can tell his friend is still nervous at the prospect. He doesn't know why, since he's so good at acting like he doesn't need his bare heels touching the floor to be able to play the drums. The crowd can't tell, and they keep it that way.

It isn't until later, much _much_ later, during the _Made In America_ tour, that he slips up just the littlest bit. It's barely noticeable, and he gets himself on track easily, but he's still wondering if he's wrecked the whole song by the time it's over. Awsten doesn't know how to tell him in subtlety that everything's okay, so he does it extravagantly, the way Awsten does it best. He gestures for Otto to keep his eyes up after the song is over, and Otto worries he's about to be embarrassed in front of a thousand screaming teenagers, but then Awsten does something that he'll never forget.

It's common knowledge now, in their little music industry bubble and growing cluster of fans, that _Waterparks_ has a deaf drummer. Sometimes during the meet and greets they've been hosting, they'll meet someone who knows Sign, or who is part of the Deaf community, such as Otto, and every time it makes Awsten's heart swell. He's inclined to do something so that the audience can connect with Otto, the way he sees it during the meet and greets. Something simple. So he addresses the crowd aloud and in Sign.

"Alright, we're gonna do somethin' a little different tonight, I want y'all to try it with me." Otto looks perplexed, but his curiosity is piqued. _Why is he signing? **What is this?**_ He asks Geoff from behind his set. Geoff just grins, and plays a silly little riff on the guitar as the crowd goes absolutely bonkers. 

"Some of you know our friend Otto-" _Screaming, lots of screaming,_ "-but some of you don't. He's the coolest guy I know. And right now? The thing I'm doing with my hands? Well, that's his native language, and tonight we're gonna tell him - _in that language, the way I'm doing it_ \- how cool he is."

Otto's face is bright red, and even under the florescent lights, Awsten can see it looking back. "Okay, calm down, calm down. Anyone know how to applaud in ASL?" An overwhelming number of _no'_ s shoot from the crowd, and Awsten grins to himself. He can do this. "Take your hands-" he demonstrates, "-and shake them back and forth. It's like _Single Ladies_ but both-handed. Easy, right?" He omits Sign for most of this dialogue. He wants what he's going to do to be a complete surprise. He turns back so that both the audience and Otto can see his hands. "Okay, now I want you to do that, but when you do it, you gotta scream _we love you, Otto!_ at like the top of your lungs. Don't hold back, make it as loud as possible." There's a few _okay!_ s scattered in the pit. 

"Alright, now!" And he leads them in applause. An almost unanimous _we love you, Otto!_ springs from the crowd like a large animal, and Otto can't read the lips of a bunch of kids shouting at the top of their voices, but he knows they're saying something sweet. He can see it in the grins on their faces. He ducks his head, then looks up again. They're _still going._ Awsten laughs into the mic and addresses Otto. _**They said they love you!**_

Otto his a random drum pattern, still smiling, and once again the crowd is in hysterics. He signs back, **_I love you guys too!_** and Awsten translates for the crowd, who begins cheering - both aloud and in Sign.

That was a good show.

* * *

Otto knows Awsten's anxiety almost better than anyone else. It's no surprise to him after one of their shows, when the three of them along with Lucas and Jawn end up at a KFC in the middle of buttfuck nowhere, that Awsten gets sick. Not like his _normal_ sick - the coughing and sore throats and being unable to talk for a couple of days - but rather throwing up all of his dinner or at least _feeling_ like it. It's shirts sticking to his back, hyperventilating by himself in his bunk, pressing against the bus wall so that he can feel some kind of pressure. Any grounding source he can find, he'll take, and sometimes it becomes dangerous.

Otto once came back early with him from their restaurant stop and found him trying to punch the mirror in the bus bathroom. His knuckles were bruised horribly, but there was no blood or shattering of glass because Otto had yanked him gently away from the bathroom into an embrace. Instead, Awsten resorted to punching _him,_ but he assured Awsten after the attack that it was better than a broken mirror or knuckles.

It happens again after Awsten makes the call to Equal Vision, finalizing the end to their contract. They have a new label, a better label. One that doesn't work them to the bone and isn't just a bunch of ableist fucks trying to make extra money because of Otto's deafness. Yes, it _did_ happen with the last label. It didn't matter that it was only once. It was the nail in the coffin, besides the fact that depression doesn't take breaks for their singer and Geoff has a wife and child that he barely got to see while they were still with Equal. 

Awsten hangs up the phone with a shaking finger, his face pale. Otto's looking at him with a concerned expression. **_What's wrong?_** he signs, putting down his controller. Awsten doesn't say anything back, in fact, though he's looking in Otto's direction, he's completely spaced out. Suddenly, he swallows, pivoting in the direction of the bunks and darting for the back, where the bathroom is. _Fuck oh fuck oh my god I'm not gonna make it in time--_

And since he doesn't know how far he'll get, he picks the spare bunk and huddles in there, shutting the curtain and curling up in a ball. His breakfast is in his mouth again. His chest is so tight that he's sure it's dense enough to sink him. It feels like he's falling. _NO! STOP IT STOP IT PLEASE NO!_ He wants to scream. He wants to open his mouth but he can't because then he'll be sick, he'll be sick on the clean sheets and Lucas will have to reclean them and then he'll be pissed and Geoff will worry and Geoff _can't_ worry now not when things are finally going right and Otto--

Otto won't hear him vomiting. But when he sees the dark circles under his eyes or notices how his hands shake as he tries to sign, then he'll ask. And then Awsten will have to explain. No, he _can't_ open his mouth. This is how he doesn't fuck up.

The curtain is drawn back gently, and Awsten is once again reminded of how opposites attract. He's an enormous hugger, a super touchy person who needs the hand holding and the piggyback rides and the long hugs with fans. He _lives_ for the physical interactions he gets to have. And that's what Geoff is usually for, because Geoff is moderately touchy as well. Otto? Not so much. Otto didn't start letting even Awsten hug him until almost a couple years after they met. Not because he doesn't like hugs, but because by then their bond had solidified, and it was okay to cross that boundary. He had subtler was of displaying his affection, like goofy hand holding behind Geoff's back during interviews, or goofing off with the microphone and poking each other. Throwing randomass objects lying around the bus at each other. Flipping each other off. Otto's affection is more unpredictable, and Awsten is surprised when he feels the drummer's body bend in an almost impossible way, sliding up against him and sandwiching him between the bus wall and himself. 

The pressure is good. It feels contained. Everything's alright. He can hear Otto saying something in that unpracticed way of his, but he's just glad he can feel the rumble of the older's chest. He's thankful for the way his arms wrap tightly around him, for the soft running of his fingers along Awsten's arms. His food is going back down to his gut, and it'll feel uncomfortable as hell, but at least it's not going the other way around.

His chest slowly unclenches from around his heart, and he can feel the erraticness of his pulse begin to settle into a more rhythmic, timed pattern. Otto won't stop rubbing, and Awsten realizes that though he hasn't vomited or shit himself, his body has the shakes. He can hardly hold himself in his position with how exhausted he is.

And just like that, he becomes gooey in Otto's arms. Otto carries him into the light of the hallway back a few feet to his own bunk and tucks him in. Otto's bunk smells like feet and cheap cologne, but it's a smell that brings Awsten home. And now he's wrapped in a blanket that is _saturated_ with it. He allows himself to breathe a little deeper, and when Otto is convinced he's asleep - even though he isn't - he leaves.

* * *

They don't breach the topic of soulmates until after _Turbulent_ is released. Between the time that they leave Equal and the month of May, Awsten has had exactly one lover - the relationship is very short, escalates very fast, and leaves Awsten feeling _very_ heartbroken. Otto and Geoff feel like leeches every time they ask him what's wrong. And every time, he responds the way he responds best - with a day at the studio and a new song that explains everything.

And then one day, Awsten walks into the studio with a grin on his face. For the first time in a couple of months, he's not depressed, at least seemingly. He has a new bounce in his step.

He knows Otto is his. He's _sure_ of it. He thought he was sure before, but if breaking up with the girl who ripped his heart to shreds taught him anything, it's that he's more sure now than he ever was. It's Otto. It's always been Otto. He doesn't know why he didn't listen to his wrist in the first place.

He and Otto end up alone together after one of their shows, the Minneapolis one, if he remembers rightly. Otto is sitting next to him on the couch, their knees touching as he tries beating Geoff in a round of MarioKart. Geoff wins, of course. Awsten hands his remote to Lucas in frustration. And then his left wrist begins to feel funny, and when he looks down, he sees that words--

Words have appeared. They read, _What are you thinking of?_ And then Otto taps him on the shoulder. **_What are you thinking of?_** he signs, an innocent smile playing on his face. Awsten blinks once, looks down at his wrist, looks at Otto, wrist, Otto wrist Otto wrist Otto wrist _Otto._ He feels his nose start to burn the way it does when he's about to cry. **_I- I always thought it was you, and now I know._** Otto's eyes widen. He pulls out his own wrist, rubbing at it and then rubbing his eyes with his right hand.

**_Awsten._ **

**_Yeah?_ **

**_You- You said the words._ The words, _the ones that just showed up on my wrist._**

**_You did too._ **

Otto stares into Awsten's eyes, his own filling with mist. Awsten's are starting to prick as well. He's reminded of meeting Otto on the street before he knew he'd be the drummer for _Waterparks._ He's reminded of Chipotle and driving to Florida. He's reminded of all the times Otto has helped him from a panic attack, when nothing was real except terror and pain. He's reminded of the few times he's helped Otto from one of his own.

It's the one thing that plays in his mind. After the show where they continued the tradition of signing _we love you, Otto!_ from the crowd. He remembers finding him crying and pacing afterwards, remembers holding him tightly to his chest, remembers beating him in another round of MarioKart, remembers how they feel asleep on the couch leaning on each other. Jawn had taken a picture of that moment.

_**I thought you didn't exist.** _

_**Me too.** _

A tear falls from Otto's face, and as naturally as if he's done it before, Awsten swipes at it with his thumb. He can see Geoff in his periphery smiling like the idiot he is. Jawn's snapping a picture. Lucas has set down his controller. They're all watching, Awsten realizes, because they all knew - himself included, well kind of - before Otto did. In that moment, Otto clears his throat.

"Can...I kiss you?"

Awsten doesn't need to understand to know what he means.

Otto can't hear but he understands sound better than anyone Awsten knows. And right now, he can tell that _Otto_ can tell that the sound of relief emerging into the atmosphere is deafening. Awsten doesn't need to answer in words. He doesn't need to answer in Sign. Right here, right now, he presses his lips gently to Otto's. Another camera shutter sound reaches the ears of the green-haired man, but it goes in one and out the other just as fast.

Geoff starts applauding. Lucas chuckles. So much sound that Otto will never know. But Awsten has no time to be sad for what his soulmate doesn't have, because he has a soulmate in the first place. Twenty-year-old him never thought the day would come. Twenty-year-old him tried to be sure, tried to believe it was Otto, and now he does.

They've found each other. That's the realest it gets.

* * *

**awstenknight**

**[** _image attached x2_ **]**

**awstenknight**. when I was sixteen, the Phrase never showed up for me,  
which fucking sucked. and then I went looking for a drummer for parx, and  
I met otto wood. he's the kindest, most amazing person I know. yesterday I  
experienced finding him for the first time, when we said the words on each  
other's wrists in the middle of mario kart. yeah, I know they're twelve years  
late. that's not the point. the point is he's mine and I'm proud to call him  
mine in front of the whole world. in front of the universe itself.  
  
I hope you can celebrate with me. I love you otto.


End file.
